


coffee? - newtmas

by hollyivy



Category: The Maze Runner (Movies), The Maze Runner Series - All Media Types, The Maze Runner Series - James Dashner
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, Alternate Universe - No Maze (Maze Runner), Bisexual Male Character, Bisexual Minho, Bisexual Thomas (Maze Runner), Fluff, Gay, Gay Newt (Maze Runner), Italy, M/M, Newt is a barista, newt speaks italian, newtmas - Freeform, soft italian romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-07
Updated: 2021-02-16
Packaged: 2021-03-13 01:06:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 9,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29269968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hollyivy/pseuds/hollyivy
Summary: Thomas feels trapped in his life in New York City. His girlfriend left him, he's sleeping on the couch of his college friend Gally, and he's lost, in need of a a fresh start.He’s sitting on a bench, feeling sorry for himself when he bumps into Minho, in the year above him when he was at NYU. Minho offers him the clean slate he wants; to go to Italy, on a new continent and find himself again. What Thomas doesn't know is that at a lake-side Italian café, he's going to meet a blonde British boy who will change his life, forever.
Relationships: Newt & Thomas (Maze Runner), Newt/Thomas (Maze Runner)
Comments: 11
Kudos: 35





	1. Italy

**Author's Note:**

> tw // alcohol, death of a parent, bad relationship w a parent, coming out / sexuality struggle, depression, bad mental health. 
> 
> JUST IN CASE - this story mentions alcohol consumption (no addiction etc. just social drinking), a bad relationship with a parent, the death of a mother, references of depression / low mental health and struggling with sexuality / coming out.   
> PLEASE let me know if there is anything else you feel is worth mentioning that could be upsetting in any way to anyone, big or small. thank you & happy reading.

Thomas stuck his arm in-between the closing elevator doors and muttered an apology as he pushed his way into the slither of empty space that was left. He was surrounded by a multitude of middle-aged men, all with different heights and weights, but all possessing the same unsatisfied look on their faces. They all stood stiffly in their tailored suits, uncomfortably shifting their briefcases in their sweaty hands, and adjusting their hair and ties. Thomas felt their eyes on his back as he pressed the button for the ground floor, judging his hand-me-down suit he had received from his brother 4 years ago on his 18th birthday. It was tight around his shoulders, and short on the arms and legs, but he had nothing better, and had no money to get anything better, so this was it.

He loosened the red tie that tightly hugged his neck and undid the top button of his wrinkled white shirt. He was suddenly glad his interview had gone so badly; he didn't want to live the same lives that these men surrounding him lived. He was young; there was much more out there for him. 

The elevator ground to a halt and he sighed with relief as he felt the soft, cooling stream of air from the air conditioning wash over his damp skin. He placed a shiny shoe onto the floor of the equally as shiny marble lobby and slid his phone out from his pocket, expecting to see missed calls and desperate texts, her begging for him to come back, but his screen was blank.

He sighed. It hadn't even been a week and he already felt like his life was crumbling before him. He had 3 interviews this week and blown all of them. He had eaten nothing but instant noodles since he moved in with his old college best-friend Gally, and he felt trapped, and depressed and lost. The concrete jungle had never really felt like home, more like a cage. He wanted nothing more than to be successful, to make his family proud, but no matter what he did, he wasn't getting anywhere.

She hadn't given him much of a reason for breaking it off. She was just 'unhappy' and had assured him 'it's not you, it's me' but he still felt that really, it was all him.

He crossed the street and flopped down onto the nearest bench, resting his head in his hands. He had never felt so hopeless in his life, and he wanted nothing more than to talk to his mom, but that was impossible. She'd been dead for 3 years.

"Thomas?" he heard a familiar voice exclaim. He lifted his head up swiftly. Before him was a good friend he had met in the year above him at NYU. He hadn't seen him since he graduated.

"Minho! Hey man, how've you been?" he said, standing up and reaching out a hand for him to shake. Minho laughed and pulled him into a hug.

"Yeah, I'm alright buddy. You aren't looking too hot right now, if you don't mind me saying" he said, with a laugh that put Thomas at ease.

"Just absolutely fucked my third interview of the week, and broken up with my girlfriend, do you blame me?"

Minho winced on his behalf. "I'm sorry, man"

Thomas shrugged it off, sitting back down onto the bench, tilting his head back to look at the sky. "I wanna get out of here, you know? There's something out there for me, but it isn't here."

Minho nodded and slumped down beside him.

"Weird you should say that actually, I'm leaving for Italy tomorrow morning. I'm working there for the next 3 months, maybe more. I was feeling just as trapped as you were, and thought I'd actually do something about it."

"God, I wish I could do that" Thomas replied, sighing deeply and closing his eyes.

"I mean.." Minho began, stopping mid-sentence.

"What?" Thomas said, snapping his head up and turning his body to face Minho.

"You could come with me. My friend dropped out last minute. You're gonna have to find work on your own, and you'd have to figure out a way to pay me back for the ticket, but if you really think you'd feel better, I don't see why you can't."

Thomas was listening intently to every word Minho was saying, clinging to every syllable. He wanted this, in fact, he needed it. He needed to escape, to start fresh, in a new city, in a new country, on a new continent.

"Okay" he said, without a single hint of doubt in his mind.

"Really? Just like that, you're dropping everything?" Minho said, his brows furrowing, confused or surprised, Thomas couldn't tell.

"It's not like I've got a lot to drop, Minho. I have a job in a shitty grocery store, no apartment or anywhere to call home, approximately 2 friends, and literally no hope of a happy future. I have every single reason in the world to go with you"

Minho looked away from Thomas' eager eyes, like he was processing and thinking. "Okay. Text me your address and I'll come get you at 6am. Pack a bag, buy an Italian dictionary, and we're good to go"

Thomas felt tears spring to his eyes. Tears of what, he wasn't sure. Of happiness? Of hope? He thought it was a mix of them both. 

"I really owe you my life, man. Thank you."

Minho smiled, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. "See you tomorrow" 

Thomas walked home, taking in everything around him, allowing himself to reminisce over the city, and letting all of the dislike for the city melt away. He was able to look back on it with fresh and kinder eyes now that he knew he was leaving it behind, for a while anyway. 

He stopped by work to explain, and apologise. His manager had become a friend and assured Thomas that when he returned, his job would still be there for him if he wanted it. Thomas was grateful for that, and felt his heart drop as he shut the door behind him, hearing the familiar creak. He had been saying for months that he would get oil for the hinge, but unsurprisingly, he never did. 

He quickly reached Gally's front door and sat down on the steps facing onto Tompkins Square park in the East Village. Thomas hadn't been there long, but he'd miss it nonetheless. 

"Hey man" Gally said, pressing a hand down on Thomas' shoulder for support as he lowered himself on the step next to Thomas, two beers hanging precariously from his other hand. "Long day?" 

"Actually, I got some pretty good news" Thomas said, taking the beer and bringing it up to his lips. 

"You got the job? Congrats Tom, that's hu-" 

"No it isn't that. I blew the interview actually" Thomas said with a sigh. "I bumped into Minho, you know, the Korean guy from the year above us at college?" He glanced at Gally to look for a hint of recognition. Gally nodded. 

"I was feeling pretty sorry for myself, and I explained everything to him, you know, about how shitty my life is?" 

Gally laughed. "Go on then"

"and he said he was going to Italy tomorrow, to work, and he uh-" Thomas fixed his eyes on Gally's face "-he uh, told me to come with him" 

Gally raised his eyebrows comically. "That's insane, Thomas." 

"I know bu-"

"Woah, woah, I never told you not to go. I think you should. You've always said you've felt trapped here. It'll be good for you, man" Gally exclaimed, enthusiastically, wrapping an arm around his shoulder and squeezing. "I mean, gonna be a bit lonely, but you deserve to be happier, it'll bring me peace knowing you're out there living your life" 

Thomas grinned, taking another sip of beer, feeling content in the evening summer sun, thinking that in 24 hours, he'd be sitting somewhere in Italy, where no one knew what he had achieved in his life before that moment (or in his case what he hadn't achieved) and no one would know so much as his name. He would be anonymous, with a completely clean and glistening slate, re-building himself from scratch. 

He was so god damn excited. 

6am - the next day

Thomas stood outside on the steps, the crisp morning air making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He had a suitcase leaning against one leg, and his Italian dictionary open in his right hand. He flicked through the pages of "helpful phrases" and muttered them under his breath, entirely conscious that he was entirely butchering the pronunciation. 

He was busy learning how to ask where the restrooms were when a yellow cab pulled up outside, the window rolled down, with a grinning Minho sitting in the back. "Get your ass into gear, Thomas, Italy awaits"


	2. Ciao

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomas and minho arrive in an italian lakeside town. thomas see's a blonde boy closing the café while him and minho are out that night. he goes to that same café the next day for a coffee and also.. maybe to see the blonde boy. who knows?

Thomas felt the water of the shower wash over his body, feeling all the hours of travelling and all the hopelessness he had felt only 24 hours ago rise up into the air with the steam. They had arrived in the Italian lakeside town of Iseo about half an hour ago, after spending an hour in a cab from the airport, sweating and overheating, but happily admiring the Italian scenery that passed outside the window.

Thomas felt thrown off by how dark it was outside, having left New York in the early morning. Since Italy was 6 hours ahead, it was almost 11pm, but Thomas' body told him it was 5pm, so he had yet to feel the weight of the jet-lag. He knew it would hit him like a ton of bricks sooner or later.

"How long you gonna be? I'm going crazy out here" Minho said, his fist hammering on the door.

"Give me a minute!" Thomas yelled out in reply, allowing the water to finish it's work; loosening his muscles, comforting him and washing off the debris of the past couple of weeks. The Italian air already had an effect on him, and he not only felt lighter, but his breath came easier and his head felt clearer. 

He stepped out of the shower, twisting the handle so the water stopped flowing from the showerhead. He grabbed a soft, fluffy towel from the heated rack on the right of the shower. He gratefully wrapped his body in it, feeling it's softness on his skin. He looked at himself in the mirror, running his fingers across his jaw, the stubble that had grown since he shaved it for his interview rough under his fingers. 

He pulled on a faded blue t-shirt and some jeans, rubbing his hair dry with his towel, walking barefoot out into the hallway of their air bnb that Minho's work found for them.

"About time. Is the shower nice?" Minho said, flinging his towel over his shoulder.

"Yeah, it's perfect" Thomas replied, laughing at Minho who was stumbling into the bathroom, his head inches away from hitting the side of the cabinet.

"Can we go out and explore when I'm out?" Minho yelled, sticking his head out of the bathroom door. Thomas nodded. Minho grinned and twisted the lock, Thomas heard the shower start.

He walked into the open plan kitchen and living room, the evening breeze drifting through the open double doors that opened out onto a balcony, making the curtains float in the air. He walked towards them and stepped out onto the balcony, resting his arms on the fence.

On either side of him, there were houses of all different colours and heights, some with the lights out, and windows only cracked open, to allow the inhabitants to benefit from the drop in temperature that arrived at night. Others had people, laughing and drinking, playing music, with people smoking on their balconies, one hand on a cigarette, the other clutching a drink.

Thomas thought of all the different lives and the stories of the people surrounding him, and although he wanted to paint a perfect picture of the happiness and liveliness there, he wasn't that naïve. He knew there were people tossing and turning restlessly in their beds, who felt just as trapped in their lives here as he had felt in his life in New York. He hoped that they would soon be able to find their peace, just as he had set out to do.

He looked out ahead of him, towards the giant Lake Iseo that the town sat on the edge of. It stretched out for miles and lay calm and undisturbed by boats or people, the moon reflecting on it's surface. Along the promenade that stood along side it, there were couples and friends walking alongside each other, or sitting at tables and chairs in cafés and restaurants that opened out onto the street, waiters sweeping the floor, and stacking chairs in preparation for closing.

"Thomas, I'm out. Get some shoes on, we're leaving" Minho said from the couch, as he tied up the laces of his trainers.

Thomas grabbed his shoes from the shoe rack by the door and slipped them on, grabbing a key that was hanging up on the wall. He pushed open the door into the hallway. It was an apartment building, only two 2 stories tall, with two other apartments on their floor. The walls were bright orange, and had different photos of the lake all over them.

They walked down the stairs, and Thomas ran his hand on the banister and felt it curve with the stairs, the wood smoothened from years of human hands, grabbing it for support.

They reached the front door and Minho pushed it open, and they stepped out onto the cobbled street outside their door. Their apartment sat on the edge of the street, which went further up the hill, surrounded by more apartment buildings and homes, and even a few restaurants, shops, and cafes.

They made their way along the short length of path, down the hill towards the promenade which was made of smoother stone, and had trees and benches planted all along it.

"What's the plan?" Minho asked, leaning on the railing that faced out onto the lake, turning his head back to look at Thomas who was a few steps behind.

"Let's walk along for a while, find a good place to sit maybe" Thomas suggested, beginning to walk, in the direction he had seen others going earlier. He assumed there were more bars and cafés in the town centre.

Minho caught up with him, and they walked quietly alongside each other, taking everything in. It wasn't awkward either, in New York, it was never quiet, and if it was Thomas always felt the need to fill it by speaking, but here and with Minho, it was a peaceful and comfortable silence.

"Why don't we sit here?" Minho said, pointing to the nearest unoccupied bench, that sat a few metres in front of a café, of which the lights were still on but they appeared to be closing.

"Yeah, okay" Thomas said, sitting down beside Minho who was already leaning back into the bench. "It's funny to think about how different my life was the last time I sat on a bench"

Minho laughed, replying with "Yeah, before I saved your ass"

Thomas laughed with him, but was privately overwhelmed by gratitude that he wasn't in New York anymore. He knew it'd be hard coming here, speaking the lack of Italian that he did, trying to find work, and he was nervous for that, but everything was new. He had yet to experience what life was like here, and that was exciting. If only his mom could see him now.

He turned his head around to look at the café behind him. It was called 'Café Solare'. He started inside it, looking at all the wicker chairs that sat, stacked outside and at the colourful European decor on the inside. A worker who was busy drying glasses with a dish towel looked up, smiling. Thomas realised after a moment that the worker was smiling at him.

From what Thomas could see, it was a man, with dirty blonde hair, with pale skin and brown eyes. Thomas was taken by him, and began to realise their eye contact was becoming uncomfortably prolonged, so he turned his head and shifted his eyes to Minho instead.

"What you looking at?" Minho asked, drawing his eyes to the cafe. "That guy?" Minho asked, with a smirk. "Can't really see him from here, but he's cute"

Thomas playfully punched Minho's shoulder. Minho had been open and comfortable in his bisexuality for years, but Thomas still hadn't found where he lay himself. He had only ever dated women, but he had never been opposed to the option of dating a guy. He just hadn't found the right one yet, and he doubted it would be some Italian barista. He brushed it off.

They sat on the bench and talked for a while. Not about anything crazy or deep, they just talked. Minho told him about his work as a photographer, that had allowed him to be here. He did mainly landscape work, but was looking into doing portraits of the locals here. He wasn't big or famous in photography, but he was passionate about it and Thomas admired that.

"Maybe you should take some shots of me" Thomas suggested, keeping his mouth tightly shut to prevent him laughing, as he watched Minho's face change, trying to find the words to kindly reject him. "I'm kidding, man, relax" he said, a playful hand resting on Minho's shoulder. Minho rolled his eyes.

"Shall we walk for a little and then head back?" Minho asked, getting up from the bench and offering a hand to help Thomas up.

"Yeah okay" Thomas replied, grabbing Minho's hand and springing up, quickly turning his head to look back at the boy in the café who was now wiping the tables clean.

"Come on, Thomas. You can stare at him later" Minho said, with a wink. Thomas opened his mouth to reply but decided against it.

After about 10 minutes of walking along the water front, they turned back to their apartment, as it was midnight, and Thomas thought they could grab some beers from a local store and head in for the night.

Minho ran in to the nearest grocery store and grabbed a 6 pack of beers and they made their way back into the apartment. Minho placed them down on the counter.

Thomas had ran into his room, to grab a hoodie. There was a fan in the living room and the town had reached it's lowest temperature, so he was beginning to feel the cold. He slipped it over his head and walked into the living room space, where Minho was sitting on the couch, one beer at his mouth, another open on the table for Thomas.

Thomas sat down beside him, putting his feet up on the table, taking a long sip of beer.

"What are you gonna do for work, man. You can't just sit around enjoying yourself, that's hardly fair" Minho said with a laugh. "Plus, work isn't covering all our living costs. And this place ain't cheap"

"I'll go out and ask around tomorrow, if I can figure out how to say it in Italian" Thomas replied.

In truth, he wasn't sure what he wanted to do. He didn't have a passion like Minho did, or a particular aptitude for anything. He wasn't sure what he could do, and what would be available to him.

"Hey, maybe you could be a barista, with that boy from earlier" Minho said, with yet another wink.

"You know I'd just mess up all the orders, but that's beside the point. Stop bringing up that guy, I just looked at him for a minute, I'm not in love with him. The language barrier will probably be too much, cause how can I flirt if all I can do is ask where the restroom is? Not very romantic is it"

Minho raised his eyebrows. "Okay, I'll stop. I just think that it's after your break up, you're in a town you've never been to, where nobody knows you, why shouldn't you experiment a little" He paused. "You talk about how you wanna find yourself here, experimenting can be a good way to do that"

"Yeah, you're right, but that doesn't mean I'm not nervous about it. You've always been so comfortable in yourself, in your sexuality I mean, and that never came easily to be like it did to you" Thomas said, feeling suddenly awkward.

"That's where you're wrong, Tom. It didn't come easily to me, my parents didn't like it for a really long time, when I was a teenager. They kept trying to set me up with daughters of their family friends, and although I wasn't opposed to it, I only really started to feel confident when I went to college. It's not quite the same as what you're facing, but it was still a whole new city, with new people who didn't know me. I welcomed the experience, I didn't shy away from it. I think it'd be good for

"You only live once, right?"

"Right" Minho replied, taking another sip of beer.

"I think I'm gonna turn in for the night. I'm not tired yet but I told Gally I'd call him at some point. That okay?"

"Yeah, yeah, go ahead. I've got a bit of reading to catch up on for work anyways. Tell him I say hi, and sleep well when you do"

"You too, man"

Thomas walked slowly down the hallway, looking for Gally in his contacts while he twisted open the door handle into this room. In the centre, stood a double bed, perfectly made with crisp white sheets. Thomas pressed 'call' while he gratefully collapsed into it, despite not ready to sleep, but his limbs ached from all the travelling he had done that day.

"Tom!" An enthusiastic voice yelled through the phone.

"Wow, Gally, keep it down you'll wake all the locals"

He heard Gally's laugh down the phone. "So, how is it? Are you a changed man already?"

"It's really beautiful and peaceful here. I'm nervous, sure, about finding a job, and about not knowing the language, but I'm mostly excited. The Italian air is already doing wonders" he said, running his hands through his hair while he spoke.

"That's amazing, man. I knew it'd be good for you"

Thomas smiled. "Well, you're usually right about stuff like this" he admitted, wincing in advance for boosting Gally's ego.

"Sorry, did you just say I'm right about stuff? I would like that in writing"

Thomas laughed heartily down the phone. "I don't want it going to your head buddy. I'm looking out for you"

"Very smart, very smart" Gally said. "It was good to talk to you, Tom, and I'm sorry I can't talk for longer but I've gotta go, I've got a work dinner to get to.

"Okay, Gally. I'll talk to you soon"

"Yeah Tom, don't do anything I would do" Gally said, before hanging up.

Thomas put his phone face down on his nightstand, and closed his eyes, focusing his ears to listen to the silence outside. It was rare he heard silence like this while he was trying to sleep. He was grateful for it.

He must have been more tired than he anticipated, because after brushing his teeth and getting into his pyjamas, he felt his eyes drooping. He grabbed his laptop out of his bag, and switched it on, clicking on iTunes to watch one of the movies he had downloaded.

He woke up, to see his laptop had run out of charge and he had finished the movie, although he didn't remember what happened at the end. He must have fallen asleep while it was still going. He sat up on the edge of his bed and stretched his arms out above his head, feeling the bones in his shoulders crack. He checked the clock on his phone, which had adjusted to the Italian time zone, and it told him it was 11:45am. He couldn't hear anything from outside his door, and assumed Minho was sleeping.

He walked quietly out into the kitchen, to find a paper bag containing warm bread, and a note written on the back of the receipt Minho had got from buying the beer last night.

It read:  
'Thomas,  
A call from work woke me up. They want me to come in to meet my co-workers and get to know the space and area I'll be working in. I don't think I'll be long, but maybe go explore, get a coffee or something. I put in an order for fresh bread last night at the grocery store, so help yourself to that.  
I'll call you when I'm done and we can meet.  
See you later  
M"

He grabbed a warm roll from the paper bag, and it was warm and comforting in his hands. He didn't have anything to eat with it, because their fridge and cupboards were bare, except the plates and bowls the owners had provided, so he just tore of a bit of bread and ate it. It was sweet and melted on his tongue. He thought it was a sufficient breakfast on it's own; although, he could hardly call it breakfast given how it was already midday. He felt well rested though, like he had already conquered the jet lag. 

He jumped in the shower, changed into clean clothes, grabbed his keys, wallet, dictionary and phone and shut the door behind him. The sun was highest in the sky, so the day was at it's peak of heat. He was met with a wall of hot air as he stepped out onto the cobbled street, which was significantly busier than when he had been out last night. There was a queue outside the grocery store a few buildings up from their apartment, that twisted and went down a few metres to the bottom of the path. 

"Must be popular" Thomas muttered under his breath.

His sunglasses were resting on his head and he pulled them down over his eyes, slipping his phone into his back pocket. 'Where to?' he thought to himself as he stepped onto the promenade, which was swarming with kids playing and eating ice cream, and a few people busking and singing, with parents ushering their kids to place a coin in the hats and cups that lay at their feet. 

Thomas decided to check out the café he and Minho had seen last night. He tried to convince himself it was just because he wanted to get a coffee, but in truth, he was still intrigued by that boy. He didn't know how to describe it, and it wasn't a crush. Just something about the way he smiled while he was cleaning the glasses...

"Thomas stop it" he hissed to himself, frustrated at confused at what he was feeling. "Just go get a damn coffee and forget about it" 

He wandered along until he reached the outside of the café. It was pretty packed, but he noticed a few tables in the back corner, and he made a beeline for them. He didn't lift his head, in fear that he'd see the blonde boy. But he realised how dumb he was acting. In what world would this boy have remembered him? He probably smiled at hundreds of people a day, Thomas was no different. 

He reached the table tucked inside the corner, and sat down in the chair, placing his dictionary and phone down on the table in front of him. He didn't know what it was like here, and he was suddenly conscious of how he wasn't able to order anything at all in Italian. He felt suddenly embarrassed and stupid. 

He was busy feeling sorry for himself, when he looked up to see a waiter standing in front of him, a pad of paper and pen in hand, glancing at him expectantly. 

"Uh, uh c-ciao" he stammered, reaching his hand out for his dictionary. The waiter rolled his eyes and turned his head. 

"Newton!" he yelled in a thick Italian accent. 

"Coming!" A British voice yelled back. 

Thomas watched as the blonde boy pushed his way through the crowd of people that had gathered around the counter, apologising to every person he passed, a big smile on his face. 

The Italian waiter spoke to the blonde boy in beautiful Italian that Thomas didn't understand, the blonde boy stood facing him, placing a hand on the waiters shoulder and laughing, replying in fluent and flowing Italian that matched that of the waiter. The waiter smiled and nodded and handed the blonde boy his pad of paper and pen. 

"Alright then, sorry about that" The blonde boy replied, turning to face Thomas. "I'm Newt. What can I get you?" 

Thomas had his mouth hanging slightly open, and was unable to think of anything to say. Newt stood there a hint of a smile on his face, his eyebrow raised. 

"You in there mate?" he said. 

"Yeah sorry, I-I was just wondering how that waiter knew I wasn't from here" Thomas said, feeling embarrassed and flustered. He was normally okay ordering in cafes and restaurants but this was a whole new experience. 

Newt poked the English to Italian dictionary that sat on the table. 

"The dictionary was indicator number one, and your inability to say anything other than 'ciao' was another giveaway. It's okay though, happens all the time" Newt said, flipping one of the wicker chairs around and sitting in it backwards, his legs straddling the back of it. 

"So you're the resident English speaking employee, then?" Thomas asked, beginning to match the relaxed manner of the other boy. 

"Yeah, that's me. They send me out whenever there's non-Italian speakers who are struggling to order. The others speak a little broken English, but it's better and easier if I help them out" Newt said, nodding. "Anyway, you never answered my question. What can I get you? Coffee?" 

Thomas laughed. "Yeah that, sorry. Can I just get an espresso?" 

"Very appropriate" Newt said, scribbling on the notepad. "Anything else? Can I interest you in a pastry? They're homemade"

"Why not, can't say no to that can I?" 

Newt smiled while getting up from the chair and sliding it under the table. 

"How does it work, do I pay now, or at the counter?" 

"At the counter, but this one's on the house" the boy replied with a wink. Thomas felt his heart skip for a second, but he pinched himself under the table. 

He opened his mouth to protest, but Newt must have seen it coming because he cut him off. "I insist, -" he paused "What's your name?" 

"Thomas" 

"I insist, Thomas" 

"Thank you then, Newt" 

Newt gave him a warm smile before walking away behind the counter. 

"God, I have really got to learn some Italian" he muttered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! this chapter is over double the length of my last one so i hope that's ok. please let me know if the length and pace is ok. there's gonna be more newt in the next one, promise.  
> thank u for reading


	3. Tommy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> thomas has multiple encounters with newt, intensifying his feelings of confliction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey! thank u so much for reading, i hope u enjoy this chapter. if you happen to be italian or know it well, let me know if i make any mistakes, i'm currently relying on google :)

Thomas sat on the bench outside, the pastry half eaten in a paper bag beside him. He felt the heat of the midday sun beating down on him, but as it was accompanied by a gentle breeze, it was almost enjoyable. He tore off a corner of the pastry and brought it to his mouth, the sweetness of it distracting him from the foreign emotions he was feeling, and had been feeling since he walked out of Café Solare 15 minutes ago. He hardly knew where to begin.

Newt, was the blonde boy's name, and he wasn't Italian, he was British. That was most surprising to Thomas, after hearing the fluidity and beauty of his Italian. It only made Thomas want to know more about him.

On first impression, Newt seemed to be friendly by nature, which made him doubt that anything that happened between them was unique to Thomas. Of course, he was already looking too much into it, but he was intrigued. The wink and the free food had only deepened that curiosity, to a point that it was all Thomas could think about, despite the fact he was sitting in a beautiful lakeside Italian village.

His phone started to ring in his back pocket. It was Minho.

"Hey, man. I'm gonna be another hour or two, I'm really sorry" he said, clearly on the move to somewhere, because Thomas heard other voices around him and Minho appeared to be slightly out of breath.  
"It's okay, I'm enjoying my alone time" Thomas replied, trying to decide if that really was the truth, flipping his eyes quickly back to the café in search of Newt. He couldn't see him.

"Okay, bud, glad to hear it. I'll call you again when I'm done, or I'll just see you back at the apartment. See you later"

"Yeah, see you" Thomas replied, before hanging up the phone and putting it back in his back pocket.

"Didn't want to bother you while you were on the phone, can I sit?" A British voice said from behind Thomas. Thomas turned his head around to see Newt, standing behind him, a paper bag in one hand, similar to the one on the bench beside Thomas, and a bottle of water in the other.

"Yeah, go ahead" Thomas said, as nonchalantly as he could. He wanted to prove to Newt that he wasn't as awkward as he had appeared before. Newt nodded and sat down, resting his arm on the back of the bench, twisting his torso to face Thomas.

"Enjoying the pastry?" Newt asked, gesturing towards the bag that Thomas had moved closer to him.

Thomas nodded. "Did you make it?" he asked.

"Yep, I did" Newt said, shrugging.

"A man of many talents" Thomas said, smiling.

Newt laughed, making Thomas' breath catch in his throat. "And what would those talents be, Thomas?" he asked.

"First of all, you speak Italian" Thomas said, raising his eyebrows, his eyes flicking between Newt's eyes and the hand that was running through his blonde hair.

"I do, I do" he replied, shaking his head. "You can thank my parents for that"

"Why?" Thomas asked.

Newt smirked. "You ask a lot of questions, amore" he said. Thomas didn't have to be fluent in Italian to understand what that meant. He tried not to blush.

"I do ask too many questions, it's a flaw" Thomas admitted, turning his face away from the other boy feeling suddenly vulnerable.

"I don't think so. It shows you actually give a shit" Newt said, leaning slightly forward with a smile. "Anyway, you can thank my parents because they forced me to go study languages at uni. I resisted at the time but now I'm thankful. To me, languages are-" he paused, thinking "they're special. There's nothing I love more than the look on the faces of the locals when I can speak to them fluently. It made the 4 years of studying worth it, you know?" Newt took a breath before continuing. "I'm here to improve my Italian, if you can believe it"

Thomas had turned his head to watch the animation on the other boys features, and the way his eyes lit up as he spoke. Thomas had always loved to look at people's faces when they spoke about what they loved, he always thought it made them glow. And right now, Thomas was willing to admit that Newt was glowing.

"What is it?" Newt said, frowning, expressing his confusion. Thomas had clearly been zoned out for longer than he realised.

"Oh, nothing. I just love watching people talk, especially when they're passionate about something" Thomas said sheepishly, looking at his feet.

"That's adorable" Newt said, his British accent making it difficult for Thomas to decipher how sincere he was being. He smiled anyway.

"What's your story? What brings you here?" Newt asked, taking a sip of water.

"Escaping my old life" Thomas admitted, with a sigh. "I lived in New York City, my girlfriend broke up with me, I kept messing up job interviews. Bumped into a friend at the perfect time, and here I am, with the clean slate I wanted" Thomas said, not wanting to be any more specific. "I guess I was just lost, in myself, in my life. I'm hoping coming here was the right move. I kinda need it to be"

Newt nodded. "It'll be the right move if you make the most of it"

Thomas dropped his head. "How can I do that?" he asked, genuinely interested to know how Newt would respond.

"Get out there; kiss a stranger in a bar, stay up all night, make mistakes. That's how you'll find yourself. That's how I did it" Newt said, looking at the lake in-front of him. They were silent for about a minute, both of them thinking. Thomas thought about the future, and he guessed that Newt was thinking about the past.

Newt suddenly pulled himself out of his daze, standing up quickly. "I've got to go. Lunch break doesn't last forever, sadly" He glanced down at Thomas and they made eye contact that neither of them held on to.

"Nice to talk to you" Thomas said as Newt walked away.

"You too" he replied, barely turning his head to look back at the other boy.

Thomas had felt in the last few minutes that something had shifted in their conversation, like something was off. He felt it happen after Newt had talked about finding himself. Maybe there was something under the surface that Thomas had scratched at, and as he watched the door to the café close behind Newt, he hoped he hadn't upset him, but in reality, although unknowingly, he felt that he had upset him. He would make amends later.

Thomas got up from the bench and took a deep breath in, stopping himself from overthinking every word he said during the conversation he and Newt had just had. He decided since he had nothing to do, to head back to the apartment and wait until Minho got back. He wasn't quite ready to kiss a stranger in the bar or stay up all night like Newt had suggested. He would blame it on the jet-lag, but really, Thomas wasn't spontaneous, he never had been. He'd have to work on that.

He walked the short distance from the outside of the café to the their apartment door, pushing it open and welcoming the cold air that met him as he stepped into the hallway.

"Damn I love air conditioning" he whispered, putting his key back in his pocket and ascending the stairs, the bannister becoming a familiar feeling under his hand.

He unlocked the door and slipped his shoes off of his feet, throwing his keys down on the counter. The room had become stuffy, as he had closed the windows before going out, so he made the effort to open some of them, and he was grateful as fresh air flooded through each open window into the apartment, cleaning out the last of the sweat and grime from yesterday's travelling.

Thomas grabbed his laptop from his bed and sat down on the couch, opening up his email, on seeing that he had a notification. It was an email from his dad.

"Why can't he just text me like a normal person?" he muttered under his breath, clicking on the email, the subject title simply stating "call me". It had been sent only 30 minutes ago. His dad was an early riser. 

Thomas sighed and felt himself getting nervous. He didn't get on well with his dad, especially after his mom died. His mom had always found a way to soften the tension between them, but now she was gone, they were barely able to have a conversation without one of them ending up angry or upset. Nonetheless, Thomas had to call him, it'd been weeks. He pressed dial.

"Hi, Thomas" his dad said, picking up after three rings.

"Hey, Dad. What's up?" Thomas asked hesitantly. He had told his dad he was going to Italy after he had arrived, too afraid of him saying he shouldn't go. He wasn't sure why he still felt like a kid around his dad, he was 22 and perfectly able to look after himself. Although, Thomas wasn't sure his dad felt the same about that. 

"Nothing much. I just wanted to talk to you, you know, to check in"

"Okay" Thomas replied, waiting for his dad to speak. There was a moment of silence.

"Oh uh, right. So you're in Italy, right now?" he asked.

"Yeah, I am. I got here late yesterday"

"What're you doing for work?" his dad asked, causing Thomas to inhale sharply through his teeth.

"Figuring that out in the next couple of days, I'm sure I'll find something"

There it was, Thomas thought to himself as there was a brief moment of silence. "You mean to tell me that you showed up on a brand new continent, where you don't speak the language, without ANY promise of a job? What are you even there for?" his dad yelled. Thomas' mission to 'find himself' suddenly felt stupid and irrelevant.

"I felt trapped in New York, Dad, I needed to-"

"To what? Go on some spiritual journey and come back brand new? That's not how life works, Thomas. You can't seriously believe that everything will fix itself " he paused, and let out an exasperated laugh "You keep proving to me, Thomas, that all you are is a little kid. You have no idea what you're doing, and you never have"

Thomas sat in silence. He was angry, and upset but there was truth in his words. Was he really so naïve to think he could fly off to Europe and everything would be okay again. Maybe he was just a stupid kid.

"Look, Thomas, do what you want, but don't come crying to me when you realise your mistake" his dad said aggressively, before hanging up, without so much as a goodbye. Thomas felt hot, angry tears brimming in his eyes and he blinked them away quickly. He wasn't going to let his dad control him and have such an intense hold on him. He was in Italy, he was going to be better than that.

Thomas shut his laptop and put his phone face down on the coffee table in front of him. He got up, stretched and walked out to the open doors leading to the balcony. He had felt peaceful out there last night, and he hoped it would provide the same effect now, and help him to clear his head.

He stood out there for a while, enjoying the atmosphere once again, but even more so now, since the town was no longer asleep. He watched the people walking by and entertained himself by imagining stories for them, and why they ended up here.  
He wasn't sure how long he had been out. He didn't have a watch, and his phone was down on the table, but he heard the keys move in the lock and he stepped off the balcony into the open space to see Minho standing in the doorway.

"Hey! Back so soon?" Minho asked, throwing his keys down on the table next to Thomas' phone.

"Couldn't find anything to do, and I called my dad" he said, shoving his hands into his pockets, trying not to give anything away about how the phone call had gone.  
Minho just nodded, understandably, as Thomas had never spoken to him about the relationship he had with his dad. He would someday, sure, but for now, it was nice to not be pressed with questions. This way, it was easier for him to move on.

Thomas picked up his phone and read the clock. It said it was around 3 o'clock. He surprised himself by yawing.

"Jet lag got you too, huh?" Minho asked, taking a sip from the bottle of water he had been holding as he came in.

"Yeah, I guess. How was work, anyway? You like your co-workers?"

Minho shrugged. "Yeah, they're all okay. They don't speak the best English but they seem nice, and the boss is nice too"

Thomas nodded, sitting back down on the couch, leaning comfortably back into it.

"You can nap in a minute, but I thought we could go out for an early dinner at 6 ish? So we can sleep early, because I gotta get up early for work tomorrow" Minho said, walking over and sitting down at one of the stools at the kitchen counter.

"Sounds good, actually, yeah" Thomas said. He hoped Minho wouldn't suggest going for a drink at Café Solar. He still felt bad about the tension that had risen between him and Newt earlier.

"What'd you get up to?" Minho asked, raising an expectant eyebrow at Thomas.

"I went to that café, met that boy. No language barrier at all, surprisingly. He's British, and he's called Newt" Thomas said, avoiding Minho's eyes, knowing he was seconds away from being teased.

"Newt? Like the reptile?" Minho said, taking another sip from his water. "Huh"

Thomas laughed. "Yeah, I guess like the reptile. Kinda weird, isn't it?"

Minho nodded. "He's nice though?"

"Yeah, he's nice" Thomas said, watching as a gentle smirk and look of smugness settled into Minho's face. "Say nothing." Thomas threatened, trying not to laugh. Minho raised his hands in defence, implying he would never think of such a thing.

Thomas let himself close his eyes, the comfort of the couch and the cool air sending him to the brink of sleep, and he welcomed it.

"Wake up, sleepyhead" Minho said, watching as Thomas blinked awake. "We're going out, I got us a table at a nice place nearby"

Thomas stood up, rubbing his eyes and blindly reaching out for his phone in-front of him, sliding it into it's home in his back pocket, walking over to the door where had left his shoes, slipping them on his feet. Minho had already unlocked the door and was standing staring at him from the hallway outside. Thomas stepped out to join him, and fumbled with his key, his sleepy hands barely able to lock the door, but he got there in the end. 

"About time, Tom" Minho said, shaking his head patronisingly. Thomas rolled his eyes, following Minho down the stairs. 

"Where are we going?" Thomas asked, watching as Minho walked purposefully out of the door and turned to walk up the cobbled pathway instead of down it. At least they weren't going to the café. 

"Stop asking questions, let me keep the element of mystery. Trust me, man, I know my way around TripAdvisor" Minho said with a laugh. They walked for about a minute, and turned a corner, arriving outside a restaurant, packed with people. Minho walked confidently in. "I'm Minho" 

"Good for you" said the Italian waiter. Minho's mouth opened slightly, and he stuttered "I-I mean I have a booking under Mi-"

The waiter threw his head back and placed a hand on Minho's shoulder. "I'm just joking, do not stress your pretty head about it" he said, his accent thick. Minho smiled. Thomas thought he looked kinda flirty, and he laughed quietly. 

"Come with me, gentlemen" the waiter said with a wink. What was it with people around here and winking? Thomas thought to himself, his mind flashing to that morning in the café. 

Thomas had been following Minho blindly, and he felt himself walking up stairs, which was a surprise to him. He stopped walking suddenly and his mouth dropped open in a pleasant surprise. They were standing on a rooftop terrace, surrounded by about 5 or 6 other tables and a bar. 

"Told you to trust me" Minho said, smiling. 

"God, Minho, is this a date? Should I have worn a suit?" Thomas said, jokingly. 

"Thought it could be a little gift, since you're all sad and heartbroken and stuff." he replied, lightly punching Thomas on his shoulder. "Get what you want, it's on me" 

Thomas shook his head in quiet disbelief, sitting down at the table the waiter had directed them to, leaning back comfortably. He watched as the waiter walked away, Minho eye's following him. "Maybe I should go and you can take that waiter out instead" Thomas suggested, watching Minho's eyes roll. 

"I will if you take the reptile boy" Minho said, smiling. 

Thomas shook his head. "Not gonna happen" Minho replied with a shrug. 

"You never know"

Thomas did know. He wasn't confident or spontaneous, and he wasn't even sure Newt was into guys, and if he was, how could he be sure Newt would like him. He'd save himself the embarrassment. 

Minho dropped the subject and instead, they both picked up their menu's and ordered. Thomas was hungry, and knew Minho was too. The food came quickly and as they ate, they spoke about Minho's work and Minho spoke passionately about his photography. Thomas hadn't had a chance to see it, not since they knew each other at NYU anyway, and Minho assured him he had improved since then, but Thomas thought he had always been talented. He was glad when Minho pulled out his phone and showed Thomas some of the landscape photos he had taken while he had been out today. He did it justice. 

After they had finished eating, Minho suggested they get a drink from the bar. 

"I'll go get it" Thomas said, getting up and sliding his chair under the table. "What will you have?" 

"Just beer" Minho said. Thomas nodded. 

Their table was closest to the bar, so he didn't have far to go. He leaned on the shining mahogany. He had no idea how to order a beer in Italian, so he quickly tried to type it into google before the bartender noticed he was there, but he kept misspelling it, and the bartender coughed and said something in Italian. He was close to finding the correct phrase when another voice interjected, replying in Italian. The bartender made some sort of grunt, in agreement or understanding perhaps. 

"I told him he's going to be waiting a while" Newt said. Thomas snapped his head up, looking into the brown eyes of the other boy. "Are you stalking me?" Newt asked with a laugh. 

"Maybe you're stalking me" Thomas suggested, feeling surprisingly unflustered. 

"Maybe I am" Newt replied, turning his head to look at the tables surrounding them. "Is this a solo trip, or are you here with someone?" he asked, his eyes scanning the tables, maybe looking for someone sitting alone. 

"That's Minho, at the table closest to us" Thomas said, gesturing to his friend, who was on his phone. "What about you? Do you make a habit of coming to bars alone on a weeknight?" 

"Firstly, Thomas, I don't have a morning shift tomorrow" (Thomas took a mental note of that) "and secondly, I'm not here alone" Newt said, gesturing down the bar to someone who's head was turned away from them. Newt said something in Italian and a girl turned her head, waving delicately and them. Thomas felt his heart drop a little in his chest, feeling immediately stupid for feeling hurt. He had no claim over Newt, he barely knew him, but somehow, he was still jealous. He just nodded.

"Anyway, can I help you order?" Newt said, shifting his stance so he was blocking Thomas' eyes which kept flicking to the girl at the end of the bar.

"Two beers" Thomas said. "I could've just tried it in English, he would've got it eventually" he said, referencing the bartender who had moved down the bar to deal with someone else. 

"Ah yes, but that'd take away from your cultural enrichment" Newt said. "I'll teach you, then you can do it yourself" Newt took a deep breath. "Repeat after me. 'Due birre, per favore'" 

Thomas smiled awkwardly and copied Newt, his voice a bit shaky. 

"Tommy, it's only me" Newt said, his face softening a little. 

Thomas laughed in surprise. 

"What?" Newt exclaimed, smiling back at him, confused. 

"Tommy. That's a new one for me" he said. "No one has ever called me that before"

"Does that make me special, then?" Newt said, winking again. Thomas' confusion just felt deeper than the first time he had winked at him in the café. Was this just a gesture people did here? Newt had brought a girl here, yet he was winking at Thomas, teaching him Italian and giving him nicknames. 

Thomas shrugged. "I guess" 

"Well then, Tommy, give it another go, and then go order. I've got to get back" he said, tilting his head in the direction of the girl. 

"Due birre, per favore" Thomas said, this time more confidently. 

"Perfect" Newt said, with a warm and genuine smile that made Thomas feel a bit weak. Newt nodded and called over the bartender, while walking away "Good luck, amore" 

The bartender looked at him expectantly. He produced his newly learnt Italian. The waiter laughed, while getting out two glasses from under the bar and filling them with beer. "Well done my friend" 

Thomas gratefully took them, getting out his wallet. The bartender shook his head and pointed at Newt, miming out an action that Thomas took as Newt had already payed for him. He thanked the bartender and avoided looking down the bar at Newt. What was it with this boy and giving Thomas free stuff? Thomas shook his head and sat down at the table opposite Minho. 

"What happened up there? I was trying not to listen but I couldn't help hearing some of it. So that's Newt?" Minho asked, turning his head to glance at the blonde boy sitting at the bar. "He's flirty" 

"He's confusing, is what he is" Thomas said. "He's here with a girl, but he gave me a nickname, and bought us these beers. He gave me free coffee this morning as well"

Minho laughed. "Tommy"

"Shut up!" Thomas exclaimed, throwing his napkin across the table, hitting Minho in the face, which just made both of them laugh. 

They drank their beer, mostly in silence. They were both tired, and Thomas in particular was reflective, thinking over everything that had happened that day. He hadn't apologised to Newt for the tension that had risen at the end of their conversation at lunch today, and he wasn't sure if he had to, because Newt seemed to have forgotten about it. He thought about the girl, and felt a tug of jealousy in his chest, but immediately shut it down. He had no right at all to feel jealous. He had met Newt three times only, and despite a nagging feeling that they had spent all their time flirting, he might have got the wrong end of the stick. 

He told himself he would go to the café tomorrow, and ask about a job. After all, Newt was the only English speaker he knew, and despite the fact that yesterday they were complete strangers, he trusted Newt. He felt uncomfortable with that too. Was he going to quickly? 

"Thomas, I've called for the bill" Minho said, bringing Thomas out of his daze. "Get ready to leave, maybe meet me downstairs"

Thomas thought that was weird of him to suggest, but he climbed down the stairs anyway and stood alone on the cobbled street outside. He hadn't looked back to see if Newt had left, and if he was still with that girl, and he hoped he wouldn't see him again tonight, he didn't think he could handle it. It was nearing 8 o'clock, and although it was early, both in Italy and New York, Thomas was tired from what felt like a really, really long day. He waited patiently for Minho. 

A few minutes later, Minho appeared, grinning, a napkin in his hand. 

"You had such a good time you kept a souvenir?" Thomas asked, with a confused laugh. 

"Nope, got the waiters number" Minho said, waving it under Thomas' nose. 

"Well, I've got to give it to you Minho, you're fast"

Minho smiled. "You got that right" 

They walked back to the apartment, their limbs and eyelids heavy, the tiredness worsened by the beer and the large amount of food they ate. Thomas was grateful when Minho unlocked the door, and he was able to brush his teeth, peel off his clothes and slip into bed, his brain shutting off into a grateful sleep, the experiences of the day, concerning the blonde boy, travelled seamlessly from his thoughts into his dreams.

**Author's Note:**

> hi! this is my first piece of writing on ao3 after writing on wattpad for a few years. i'm not sure how this is gonna go, or how this works properly yet but here we goooo!  
> it's a bit slow paced right now, but i promise you that it'll pick up a bit in the next chapter (which is when we meet newt :)  
> i also have no idea if this is long enough, i'm used to writing really short chapters so bear with me  
> thank u for reading


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